


you bring me home

by gardevoirite



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Black Mirror - Freeform, Happy Ending, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Minor Keith/Lotor, San Junipero, minor keith/allura
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 10:04:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12838872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gardevoirite/pseuds/gardevoirite
Summary: “I’m… about to say something crazy. Hear me out?” And before Shiro can react Keith drops down to his knees and grabs his left hand.“Keith?”“Marry me instead.”





	you bring me home

**Author's Note:**

> so i watched san junipero and cried for 10 hours
> 
> (also i didnt make it clear bc im a got damn idiot but keith is 3 years younger than shiro ok cool)

The stars shine brighter here, he first notices.

Then there’s the loud revving of engines as cars pass, the cigarette smoke wafting through the air from the nearby group of party-goers, the flashing lights of billboards and club signs. It’s all so overwhelming, so _different_ that he has to step back into a dark alley to recollect himself.

Different. That was what Shiro came here for. A change of pace, a new chance at life. He can handle this. It just needs a little getting used to.

Breathe in, breathe out. San Junipero is a party town. He can’t waste the limited time he has here. He needs to live again.

His eyes land on the first building he sees when he steps out the alley - a lively club, the stream of people going in and out unending, the bass of the music loud and clear even several feet away. And just like that, he feels as if the club is beckoning him in, like it has an aura of its own.

He straightens himself, striding towards the club with purpose. It seems dumb, to care about whether he’d look out of place during his first night in such a party town. Odds are he looks like an outsider either way. But it’s easier to look like he belongs than to try to make himself invisible.

He skids to a stop near the entrance, however, when he suddenly hears two voices behind him, loud enough to stand out over the city noise.

“Come on, only three hours ‘til midnight,” a man crooned. Shiro turns around and sees two men are crossing the street, both walking towards the club. The one who seemed to have spoken first was the man trailing behind, with white hair and piercing blue eyes. He smirks even if his companion can’t see him, and continues, “There’s no use wasting it, is there?”

“Who says I’m wasting it?” Says the other, voice cold as he continues walking. He’s at least half a head shorter than the white-haired man, black hair styled into a mullet. “Maybe I want to do something different tonight. Like you said, only three hours left.”

“Oh, you can do _something different_ tonight with me, if that’s what you wish,” The white-haired man flirts, and the two walk past him and into the bar before Shiro can hear the brunet’s response.

Shiro frowns. Well, that wasn’t a particularly positive conversation. He hopes that the shorter man will be okay - he did look like he can hold his own, but he can’t help but worry.

Well, one thing is for sure. He, too, only has three hours left. With no more second thoughts, he enters the club as well. If he sees the pair again and the brunet gets into any trouble, maybe he’ll be able to help him out.

Even near the entrance, the place is filled with people. Some drinking (or straight up chugging), some mingling, some dancing their hearts out. He can’t walk three feet without bumping into someone. If the atmosphere outside was overwhelming, this is a whole new level.

_Calm down,_ he tells himself. _You’ve come here to have fun._ And he will.

Maybe a drink can ease his nerves.

A few minutes later he’s sat in a booth, sipping a bottle of coke (“That’s it?” the bartender had asked, and he nods before he can think anything else. He probably looked like an idiot, going to a bar to get a soda when he saw a vending machine on the way here, but the bottle was in front of him before he could do anything about it) and watching. Observing.

It’s all new, different, but in a good way. In a _fascinating_ way, and he wants to just watch and learn everything before he can join the fray himself. But before he gets too deep into his thoughts someone’s sliding into the booth beside him and setting their drink down, pulling him out of his reverie.

“Hey, sorry, please go along whatever I say for a second.”

“Sorry?” Shiro asks, baffled, but moves to give the stranger more space anyway.

“Whatever I say, go along with it. Please?” the stranger darts his eyes towards Shiro for a split second before going back to scanning the club. He ruffles his hair anxiously, and Shiro realizes that he’s the brunet man he saw from earlier. Before he can reply, the white-haired man approaches their booth.

“Lotor,” the brunet sighs, “now you’re just being annoying.”

“Two hours, forty-five minutes,” Lotor states, tapping his watch. “Not a lot of time left, Keith.”

“I _said,_ not tonight.”

“Oh, don’t be like that,” Lotor smiles, sliding into the seat across Keith and Shiro. “We had the most amazing time last week, didn’t we?”

“Last week was last week,” Keith replies shortly, then leans towards Shiro. “There’s plenty of other people here you can bother, alright? I need to talk to my friend. I haven’t seen him in ages.”

Ah. Now he gets it. Lotor scoffs, clearly disbelieving.

Keith pretends to hesitate then leans forward to whisper, although loud enough that Shiro can still hear, “Lotor. He’s sick. As in, only-has-six-months-to-live kind of sick.”

“Five, actually,” Shiro blurts out without thinking. Before he can berate himself for possibly making the situation worse, Keith turns to give him a grateful smile. He attempts to wrap his arm around Shiro, but realizes he can’t do it effectively given how much shorter he is even sitting down. He settles for putting a hand on Shiro’s shoulder instead.

“I need to catch up with him,” Keith says, now facing Lotor. “You can understand that, right?”

Lotor stares at them for a few seconds, then sighs. “Alright.” He stands up, combing his fingers through his long hair once. “I’ll see you some other time, then?”

“Sure,” Keith grunts, resigned. He still hasn’t removed his hand from Shiro’s shoulder.

“And I’m sorry,” Lotor says, facing Shiro and forcing a smile.

Shiro nods at him, giving him a smile that, he hopes, looks sincerer. “It’s alright.”

With another look at Keith, Lotor disappears into the crowd. Keith immediately relaxes, taking his hand away and taking a long sip of his drink.

“Thanks, I mean it,” he says, leaning his head back, staring at the ceiling. “And sorry for killing you off. Although the whole five months thing was a nice touch. The name’s Keith.”

“Takashi,” he says, holding out a hand. “But you can call me Shiro. All of my friends do.”

Keith lifts his head, raising an eyebrow. “Friends?”

“Well,” Shiro laughs, “Being your escape route and killing me off might be enough for us to be friends, right?”

Keith gives out a laugh of his own, and immediately Shiro wants to hear it again. “That’s a fair point.” He takes Shiro’s hand in his own, shaking it firmly. “Shiro it is.”

“So, who is he?” Shiro asks, pointing to the only white-headed person in the club. Seems like Lotor is drinking his sorrows away at the bar.

“He isn’t a bad guy,” Keith admits. “I feel kind of bad. He’s just too persistent, I guess. He’ll find someone else.” He catches sight of Shiro’s empty coke bottle. “Want another one?”

“Sure, thanks,” Shiro says, and Keith tugs him out of his seat (Shiro wasn’t wrong with his initial assumption of Keith. He’s definitely stronger than he looks, just like Shiro thought) and leads them towards the bar, to the opposite end of where Lotor is.

“Two beers,” Keith tells the bartender. As she turns away to prepare their drinks, Keith turns to Shiro and just… looks.

Shiro lets him for a while, watches how Keith’s eyes wander around to look at every inch of him, but the moment goes on for a little too long and he’s starting to feel self-conscious, so he says, “Something wrong?”

“No,” is all Keith says, but he keeps staring at him. Then, “I’m just… regarding you.”

“Regarding me…?”

“Your arm’s pretty cool,” Keith comments, nodding his head at Shiro’s right arm. “Pretty high-tech. Almost unrealistic.”

“Ah… well, that’s-”

“I won’t ask, don’t worry,” Keith interrupts, and Shiro relaxes – he didn’t realize he had tensed up when Keith mentioned his arm. As if to save them of an awkward moment, the bartender slides them two glasses. Keith takes one and hands the other to Shiro, who accepts it with a quick ‘thanks.’

With reluctance, he takes a sip of his drink and grimaces the second the liquid hits his tongue.

“So,” Keith begins, after a large gulp of his own drink. If he noticed Shiro’s reaction, he ignored it. “Do you live here?”

“Ah, no. It’s… my first night, actually,” Shiro admits, and Keith turns to look at him, interested. Shiro spares a glance at him in return. He’s really good looking, he realizes, with gray-purple eyes and dark hair framing his face, a handsome red jacket around his shoulders.

“Well, if this is all you’ve seen so far, you’re not even close to scratching the surface.” Keith says.

“Oh?”

“Definitely. I could be your tour guide. Show you the best places in the town.”

“Sounds like a date.” Why did he say that.

Keith smirks, though. “Maybe.” He takes another gulp of his drink and thinks for a moment, then asks, “Do you like astronomy?”

Shiro blinks at the change of topic, but replies, “Yeah, I love it. Was planning on becoming an astronaut.”

Keith’s face softens at that, and something within Shiro melts. “Huh. Same here. Well, in that case, finish your drink. I’m taking you somewhere.”

“What? Where?” Shiro asks.

“You’ll like it, don’t worry.” Is all Keith says before downing his drink. Shiro makes a face at his own glass before drinking it down.

By the end of it, he’s suppressing his coughs into his prosthetic, hoping it would muffle the sound more. Keith laughs at the sight of him and _god._ That laugh.

“You don’t drink much, do you?” Keith asks, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Not a lot apart from wine,” Shiro admits. “Beer isn’t really my type.”

“That’s fair.” Keith hops off his stool and offers a hand to Shiro, who takes it and lets Keith help him stand up. Shiro waits for the moment Keith lets go, but it never comes.

Even when Keith leads him out of the club through the back exit, their fingers are still loosely intertwined. They’re immediately hit with a wall of rain when they go through the door. Keith frowns, and the back of Shiro’s mind notices how the neon pink sign from the building across makes his eyes seem even more purple than before.

“God damn,” Keith curses. “I won’t be able to show you the thing in this. And we probably can’t wait it out, we’ve only got two hours left.”

“There’s always next week,” Shiro offers, and Keith’s head whips around to look at him. For a moment he’s back to analyzing Shiro again, then nods.

“Yeah. We can do next week.” And then his eyelids droop, turning his once curious gaze on Shiro into something more seductive, and he takes a step closer. “We do still have two hours, though…”

He puts a hand on Shiro’s chest, keeping his touch light, but Shiro is already burning from Keith’s fingertips. Keith must have felt him tense, though, because he backs away just as quickly as he came.

“I’m sorry,” Shiro begins, already scrambling for an explanation, but Keith waves it away, his laid-back demeanor already set in place.

“Don’t worry about it,” Keith says reassuringly, then says, “Seriously, it’s okay,” when Shiro can’t get the guilty look off his face.

“I’d love to keep spending time with you, it’s just…”

“Then you will,” Keith says, simple. “No need to make things complicated.” His eyes dart around the area before settling on a large, broken generator. “C’mon.”

He starts walking, tugging Shiro along, and that’s when Shiro realizes that they never let go of each other’s hands. Keith hops up to sit on the generator then pats on the space beside him; Shiro follows so they’re pressed together, shoulder to shoulder.

“Nothing wrong with just talking, right?” Keith asks. “I don’t exactly have anything else to do.”

He smiles. “I don’t either.”

And so they stay, fingers intertwined the whole time. And Shiro doesn’t know what to call the feeling of hearing the rain, smelling the sea salt from the beach, and looking into Keith’s gorgeous eyes, but he doesn’t want to let go of it.

The clock strikes twelve.

* * *

One week later, Shiro doesn’t know what to wear.

Usually, he doesn’t care – so long as he looks presentable and clean, he’s ready to go. But there’s something different about tonight, knowing that Keith is interested, one way or another. And seeing as they can only see each other once a week, he needs to make every interaction count.

Black is a safe color to choose, since it works well on him. Not flashy, but with the right choices, it won’t make him look invisible either.

Besides, red and black look good together.

They had agreed on meeting outside the same club as last week’s, which is good as he still doesn’t know much about the town. He’s hoping Keith keeps true to his promise of showing him around.

When he arrives at the back of the club, he sees Keith, leaning against the wall near the back entrance. He brightens when Shiro approaches, and Shiro can feel something akin to butterflies in his stomach.

“Shiro.” It’s all he says, but the softest of smiles is on his face and Shiro can’t help the tinge of red on the tips of his ears. “Good to have you back.”

“Good to be back. Tour starts tonight?”

“Mm.” Keith pushes himself away from the wall and faces the red motorcycle beside him. He takes one of the helmets hanging from the handlebars and offers it to Shiro, who raises an eyebrow as he takes it.

“A motorcycle?”

“I like the thrill,” is Keith’s only explanation, setting his own helmet in place and hopping on.

(His legs are long. He’s pretty sure Keith caught him staring as he swings one over the bike to get on, but _god._ He can’t keep his eyes off him.)

“Are you getting on or not?”

Shiro laughs, putting his helmet on and getting on the bike behind him. Before he could start thinking about where to put his hands, Keith takes both of them and wraps them securely around his waist.

“Don’t want you falling off,” is the last thing Keith says before he turns on the engine and takes to the road.

In an instant he’s glad that he has his arms wrapped around Keith because, while he doesn’t know how fast he’s going, it’s way too fast for him to handle. He can hear Keith laughing, as if he’s having the time of his life. He pushes the terror gripping at his mind down, clinging tighter to Keith’s body.

Keith slows down when the concrete road turns to dirt, then sand. He stops near a beach house and turns the engine off, and Shiro can see the grin on his face as he takes his helmet off. He pauses.

“You can let go of me any time, now.”

“Oh!” Shiro retracts his arms from Keith’s waist as if he had burned him. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Keith hops off the motorcycle first, then stops when he sees Shiro’s face. “Hey, are you okay?”

He’s not. The fear and nervousness he felt had mostly retreated, but he’s still shaking. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“No, you’re not.” Keith offers both hands to him and Shiro gladly takes them, letting Keith help him down and steady him. His legs are shaking still as he removes his helmet. “You should’ve told me you didn’t like it, I would’ve slowed down. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Shiro reassures him. Keith is still looking at him, worried, so he says, “Hey, you can make it up to me. Didn’t you say you wanted to show me something?”

At that, Keith smiles. “Guess I did. Come on. And keep your head down, it’s a surprise.”

He lets go of Shiro’s left hand, but keeps his grip on his right, once again leading him to wherever he wants Shiro to be. Not that Shiro minds.

He keeps his head down as instructed, and they walk until they’re out of the beach Keith brought them to, but not away from it.  Keith leads him to what seems to be a hill, and then stops when they reach the top. “Okay, look up.”

He does, and gasps. There isn’t a single cloud in the sky, and clusters of stars twinkle above them, a full moon shining just the right amount of light. It’s one of the prettiest skies he’s ever seen, and he can’t bring himself to look away.

“Pretty amazing, huh?” Keith says from beside him. “I lucked out, got the best place to enjoy the view when I got the house. Especially since no one else comes here.”

“Not the same sky we see every night, though,” Shiro observes, because as beautiful as it is, it’s true. He can’t find any constellations he can recognize here. He turns to look at Keith, who huffs a laugh.

“No, it isn’t,” is all he says, then he’s leading Shiro by the hand again until they’re both lying on the quilt Keith had prepared.

“So,” Shiro begins, ignoring the curious look Keith gives him in lieu of gazing at the stars, “A house, a motorcycle. Do you live here?”

“Nah,” Keith answers. “I’m a visitor, like you. Just been staying here longer.”

“How long?”

“Couple of months. I just want to stay long enough to enjoy myself.” Keith sighs. “It does get overwhelming, though. This town, I mean. That’s why sometimes I’d rather stay here and just… think. People might say that’s just a waste of time, especially since you don’t have a lot of time to stay in San Junipero, but. Well. They’re missing out.”

Shiro hums. “Well. I don’t think it’s a waste of time either.” Then, before he can regret it, “Especially since I’m spending time with you.”

When he turns to look at Keith, he’s delighted to find that his comment made Keith’s cheeks turn the faintest tinge of red.

With an embarrassed cough, Keith changes the subject. “You don’t see any constellations here either, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s make some up, then.” Then he points at a bright star, tracing a pattern with the other stars nearby. “That one kinda looks like a cow.”

Keith repeats the pattern with his fingers to show him, and Shiro laughs. “Huh, it does. Y’know, one of my friends back home, he owns a bunch of cats. One’s black and white, could probably pass off as a baby calf. He named it Kaltenecker.”

Keith snorts. “That’s the dumbest name I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s unique.”

“We’re not naming the constellation _Kaltenecker,_ Shiro.”

The game goes on like that, one creating new constellations and the other coming up with a funny name for it to make them both laugh. He doesn’t know how much time they spend, just that eventually his attention goes from the stars to Keith, all laughter and enigma and beauty beside him.

Keith must have said something that needed a reply, because he’s looking back at him now. The intensity of Shiro’s stare must have taken him off guard, and he blushes. “What?”

“How much time do we have left?”

Keith frowns, but spares a glance at his watch. “Two hours.”

“I-” Shiro begins, then stops mid-sentence. He remembers breath tickling his neck and fingertips on his chest, and he can’t find a way to say what he wants.

Beside him, Keith sits up. “It’s okay if you don’t want to spend time with me anymore,” he says, and Shiro panics because _no,_ that’s not what he wanted to say at all. “I can take you back to the center of town, if you want.”

“No!” he says too quickly, and Keith turns to look at him, brows furrowed and frown tugging at the corners of his lips. “It’s just… can you… make this easy for me?”

Keith’s frown deepens. “What do you mean?”

“What you said to me. Last week.”

“I said a lot of things last week.” His frown is turning into a confused pout. It’s the cutest thing Shiro’s ever seen.

“What you said you wanted to do. When we got out of the club.” He sits up and, without thinking, puts a hand over his chest, as if he can still feel the ghost of Keith’s hand resting there.

Thankfully, Keith now seems to understand.

“We still have two hours,” Keith states, his tone the same from when he first implied what he wanted, just one week ago. He moves closer to cup Shiro’s face, brush the bangs out of his eyes. Instead of tensing like before, he relaxes, leaning into Keith’s touch. The fond little smile Keith gives him takes his breath away.

“Mhm.”

“You _are_ saying what I think you’re saying, right?”

Shiro laughs. “Let’s go to your place and find out.”

Keith smirks. His hands slide from his cheeks to his neck, further down to his shoulders and arms until he reaches his hands and helps Shiro up.

Once again, Keith leads him. Shiro is happy to follow.

Upon closer inspection as they near their destination, Shiro notices that Keith’s beach house is less of a house and more of a shack. Stable enough, but awfully small. As they enter, though, he realizes that the small space is less suffocating and more comforting. Cozy, even.

Keith’s house is somehow both minimalist and cluttered at the same time. There isn’t any furniture outside the necessities, but the shelves are crammed with books and he can see a variety of sketchbooks on top of the desk, with a corkboard overflowing with post it notes. Keith leads him into the bedroom before he can keep looking, and it’s even sparser and cozier, with only a double bed, a closet, and a large glass sliding door leading to the sea.

Before he can say anything about the house Keith is already in his space, hands cupping his face again and tracing his lips with a thumb. When Shiro catches the thumb into a kiss, Keith huffs a laugh and takes his hands away, settling them around his neck instead. He rises on his tiptoes and kisses him, and Shiro can feel the smile on Keith’s lips as he kisses him back.

He’s being pushed onto the bed before he knows it, Keith hovering above Shiro as he pulls away from the kiss to press his lips to Shiro’s jaw instead. Shiro sighs contentedly as Keith leaves behind a trail of kisses up to his earlobe, then whispers, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Shiro breathes out, and he feels Keith’s smile against his neck. “I - you have to show me. I don’t know-”

Keith shuts him up with another kiss, hard enough that it leaves Shiro gasping. When Keith pulls away to look at him, his eyes seem to glow. “Don’t worry,” he says, and the way his voice goes deeper ignites something within Shiro. “I’ve got you.”

* * *

They finish fifteen minutes before midnight.

Keith asks Shiro to stay, so he does, arms wrapped around Keith and tracing his spine with his fingertips as Keith hides his face on the crook of Shiro’s neck.

“You’ve really never slept with anyone before?” Keith asks, and then rushes to add, “I didn’t mean that as a critique, or anything. You were amazing.”

Shiro laughs, squeezing Keith’s waist playfully. “No, never with anyone.”

“In town, or…?”

“No,” Shiro repeats. “No one here, no one anywhere.”

“Hm.” Keith presses a kiss to his collarbone. “Their loss.”

They both laugh, quiet, smiling at each other with nothing but bliss. Keith moves so he isn’t hidden under Shiro’s chin, now facing him eye to eye. “You’ve had relationships though, right?”

“I guess,” Shiro answers. “I’m engaged, kind of. His name is Lance. The Kaltenecker cat guy.”

“I don’t like him already,” Keith deadpans, and Shiro laughs again, louder.

“He’s nice, and I’m glad to have him, but it’s… not _actually_ like that. If that makes sense. It’s complicated.”

“Hm.” Shiro can see the question in Keith’s eyes, but he’s thankful that he didn’t push it any further.

The silence takes over again, as the waves from the sea start lulling Keith to sleep. It’s cute, how his eyelids flutter to stay awake. But Shiro can’t sleep.

“When did you know?” He asks him, and Keith’s half-open eyes focus on him. “That you liked men.”

“I like women too. Equal rights and all,” Keith jokes, beaming when it makes Shiro laugh. “But I guess I always knew. There wasn’t any shocking revelation or anything.”

It wasn’t the answer Shiro was hoping for, but he won’t push. He’s prepared to let the subject drop, but then Keith keeps talking.

“I was married before. For a long time. And she was – I loved her. I really did. But sometimes I would get crushes. On friends, coworkers, handsome waiters. But I never acted on any of them. I couldn’t do that.” Keith sighs, closing his eyes. “I really, really did love her. But… she didn’t stick around. So now, more than anything, I just want to enjoy myself. Be happy.”

A tear had escaped Keith’s eye while he was talking, and Shiro carefully wipes it away with his thumb. Keith smiles at him, soft and sad, before turning back to the clock on the bedside table.

“One more minute,” Keith says.

Shiro reaches, cupping Keith’s jaw and moving his head back towards him. “Just stay here with me.”

Keith grins, scooting closer again to wrap his arms around Shiro, burying his face in his neck again.

Shiro kisses the crown of Keith’s head, and watches the digital clock until it strikes midnight.

* * *

Shiro goes to the same club the next week, and he can’t find Keith anywhere.

He checks the bar, the dance floor, the arcades, and the back exit. The red motorcycle isn’t even there.

Maybe out stargazing again? But he didn’t know where Keith lived – he knows it’s near a beach, but he doesn’t know how to get there.

He’s about to leave the club and attempt to ask around outside when he bumps into someone, causing the stranger’s drink to spill slightly on the floor.

He already has an apology on his tongue when the man speaks first. “Hold on. I know you.”

He looks at the stranger and, in a flash of recognition, realizes that it’s Lotor. The handsome, albeit a little desperate, suitor of Keith. “Lotor, right?”

“That’s correct. And you’re Keith’s friend.” Lotor scoffs around Keith’s name, his eyes drifting to the side in annoyance.

“Has he been here?”

Lotor shrugs. “If he has, I haven’t seen him.”

Shiro pushed back the disappointment creeping up to him. It must be visible on his face, because Lotor laughs, albeit not unkindly.

“You too, hm? Keith really does have an effect on people.” When Shiro doesn’t reply, Lotor says, “try a different time.”

“What?”

“He frequents the 90’s and 2000s most. If he isn’t here, he’d be on the beach.” Then he smiles, genuine. “He’s worth the shot, right?”

With that, he brushes past him, further into the bar.

* * *

One week later, Shiro visits the 90’s. Keith is still nowhere to be seen – not in the club, not on the beach, not on the hilltop.

The stars are different here, too.

* * *

Shiro finds him when he visits the 2000s the next week. He’s in the arcade corner of the club, still in that red jacket but his hair now tied into a small ponytail, playing DDR with a man with dark skin and a headband tied around his forehead.

They finish their song with a perfect combo, and the pair laughs, high fiving each other. Then Keith’s gaze lands on Shiro, a few feet away, and time stops moving.

They stare at each other for what seems like hours. Keith snaps out of it first, facing his companion and saying, “Hey I gotta go to the men’s room a bit,” before he’s hightailing it out of there.

“Hey, wait a minute-” Shiro tries to say when Keith brushes past him, and rushes to follow. “Keith!”

He somehow catches up to him in the middle of the dance floor, grabbing Keith’s hand before he can walk away. Keith whirls around to face him, almost glaring. “What are you doing here?” he demands.

“Where did you go? I was looking for you.”

Keith shrugs. “I like the change of music.”

The realization dawns on Shiro, and he steps back but doesn’t let go of Keith’s hand. “You were avoiding me.”

Keith’s face hardens at Shiro’s words, and he takes his hand away. “First of all, I wasn’t. Second, I don’t owe you anything, so stop acting like I do.”

He walks away before Shiro could react, moving through the crowd and slamming open the men’s room. Irritation starts to bubble up within Shiro, and he follows.

“You don’t owe me anything,” Shiro begins as soon as he opens the door, where he sees Keith staring at himself in the mirror, deliberately not looking at Shiro. “But the least you could do is give me a warning, or _something,_ not just disappear as if nothing happened. You don’t know what this means.”

Keith slams a fist on the marble sink. “ _This_ means fun, Shiro!” he raises both of his hands up, as if referring to the entire town. He’s looking at him now, piercing Shiro with his glare. “And whatever you’re going off about right now isn’t.”

“So you don’t feel bad.” It’s a statement, not a question. Keith doesn’t reply, doesn’t even look at him again, and Shiro sighs. “Fine. But I was hoping you would at least feel something.”

He exits before he can say anything else. Maybe he was reading everything wrong. That whatever he had felt growing between them, however short their time was, was just an illusion. Keith, he finds out, is a blazing fire, and he just can’t catch up to him no matter how hard he tries.

He’s on a rooftop before he knows it, the neon lights of the club alight directly below him. It’s cloudier here than before, but he can still tell that the stars are not the same.

He doesn’t know how long he stays, legs dangling off the roof and drowning out the noises of the town in favor of the stars, but he snaps out of his reverie when he hears someone climbing up the ladder.

“… Hey,” Keith says, carefully climbing off the ladder and on to solid concrete. He flickers his eyes towards him in acknowledgement then returns to the clusters of stars.

He lets Keith walk to him, closer and closer until he’s sitting beside him. “Okay,” he sighs, “listen. I just – I’m sorry.”

“I’m not gonna jump, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Shiro says, the smallest of smiles forming on his lips. Keith doesn’t find it as funny.

“I know, but I’m sorry. It’s just that… I don’t have much left. And in the time I’ve been here, I told myself that I wouldn’t get close to anyone. Promised myself I wouldn’t feel anything, for anyone. That whatever it is I’m gonna do here is so I can have fun, nothing else.” Keith laughs without any humor in it. “But then you came along and ruined that fucking plan completely.”

He looks at Keith then, but Keith’s eyes drift away. “I don’t know how much time I have left,” he goes on. “And I thought I could leave without anything holding me back, but… fuck, I wasn’t prepared for you. I wasn’t prepared to want something as much as I do now, and I don’t know what to do-”

Before he knows it, he has Keith’s wrists in his hands and pressing their lips together. Keith relaxes into his hold, his fingertips brushing against Shiro’s cheeks as he kisses him back, just as much force as Shiro is giving.

It escalates quickly, Keith’s tongue forcing its way into Shiro’s mouth, Shiro giving no resistance. Keith pulls away to give Shiro space when he swings his legs away from the roof’s edge, standing up and pulling Keith along with him until they’re chest to chest.

“Home’s only a couple minutes away,” Keith mumbles against his lips, and he has half a mind to tell him that he can’t wait that long, but, well. They’re on a rooftop.

“Lead the way,” he tells him, and Keith does.

* * *

The end up on Keith’s back porch afterwards, robes on and watching the sea. Keith has his head on Shiro’s shoulder, the picture of satisfaction.

“Guess that’s it,” Shiro begins, and Keith takes his head away to look at him properly. “I’m getting married. Next week.”

Keith snorts. “To Mr. Kaltenecker?”

“Oh, come on,” Shiro nudges Keith’s knee playfully, and Keith laughs. “He’s a good guy, really. And anyway, I have to.”

“Have to?”

“Yeah. I mean. My family doesn’t approve. But it’s not like they can stop me.”

Shiro doesn’t say anything else, frightened of oversharing, and Keith doesn’t prod. He grabs one of Shiro’s hands and kissing his knuckles, one by one, then entwines their fingers together.

“You said you don’t have much left,” Shiro says, hesitant. “What did you mean by that?”

Keith remains silent for a while, but the way he’s squeezing Shiro’s fingers tells him that he’s just thinking of what to say, not ignoring his question. “I don’t know how much time I have left,” he starts. “Doctors aren’t really giving me a good time frame. They said I had three months left six months ago, so I’m choosing not to listen to them this time. I just know I’m almost there.”

“But you’re staying here afterwards? Passing through?”

“No.” He says it with no hesitation. “When I’m gone, I’m gone.”

“But… why?” Why would Keith throw away such an amazing opportunity?

“Allura.” Keith closes his eyes, pauses for a moment. Then, “My wife’s name was Allura. She died a while back. Didn’t pass over here.”

“Why?” He asks again. “Why wouldn’t she?”

Keith doesn’t answer. Instead, he continues, “Couldn’t even take the trial run. I figured it wouldn’t be fair if I got the opportunity and she didn’t.”

Shiro stays quiet, processing the information Keith gave him. He doesn’t understand how anyone could turn down the opportunity to pass over here. “I wasn’t sure if I wanted to take the trial run either, but. God, if it wasn’t for this place, how could I have met you?”

“Hey, come on. We could’ve totally met outside this place.”

Shiro laughs without humor. “No, trust me. We couldn’t have. Even if we really did meet, somehow, you wouldn’t like me.” The way Keith’s staring at him can burn a hole through him. “Or at least, you wouldn’t like hanging out with me. You’d come, and you’d see me, and-”

“Try me, then,” Keith challenges him.

“No, Keith, seriously. You’d be wasting your time-”

“It isn’t time wasted if it’s you,” Keith says with such conviction that it pierces Shiro straight to his heart. “Come on, let me come visit. I want to see you. Where are you?”

Shiro sighs. “… Tokyo, Japan.”

Keith grins triumphantly. “Same. I’m there receiving treatment. Now you have no escape.”

“Keith. I don’t want you to. I’m scared of driving you away.”

“You won’t,” Keith reassures him, voice quiet and comforting. “I’m dying, Shiro. Whatever’s going on with you, it’s not going to scare me. Let me come. Please?”

Shiro sighs again. Then, slowly, he nods. Keith leans on his shoulder again, content, and Shiro wraps an arm around Keith’s shoulders.

The clock strikes twelve.

* * *

Outside of San Junipero, he can’t see, he can’t move, he can’t speak. But he can hear. And he can feel, barely but still there, warm fingers entwining with his, and a soft, fond voice saying, “It’s good to have you back, Shiro,” and oh, god. Keith.

If he focuses, he can feel the lips pressing against his hand, his forehead, the scar on the bridge of his nose. Then it retreats, and he wants to call out, ask Keith to come back, but he can’t.

* * *

“For the record, Kaltenecker is an awful name for a cat.”

“Hey!” Lance huffs, crossing his arms. “First of all, Kaltenecker is a beautiful girl who you won’t be able to understand. Second, I buy you coffee and that’s the first thing you say to me?”

“Sorry,” Keith says, not feeling sorry in the slightest.

“Hmph.” Lance pouts. “Here I thought you were such a great person for visiting Shiro before he passes over. I mean,” his playful demeanor fades away suddenly, and he loosens his arms. “Not a lot of people visit him anymore. Not even his parents.”

“He’s passing over?” Keith repeats, and Lance nods.

“I thought he told you.”

“He just said he was visiting,” Keith said.

Lance shrugs. “Well, he’s sampling the trial version. I’ve only known him for about two years. They provide nurses with a communications box for their patients. He didn’t tell you about what happened to him? How long he’s been that way?” Keith just shakes his head, so Lance continues, “Well. He was eighteen. Got accepted to this prestigious university for space travel with his best friend, Matt. Decided to go on a road trip to celebrate, ended up crashing with a truck thrice the size of their car. And that was that. Matt died from the impact. Shiro lost his right arm, and he’s got locked-in syndrome ever since.”

Keith feels his blood go cold. “When he was eighteen?”

“Fifteen years ago, yeah,” Lance sighs. “almost half of his whole life. So it was a life changer when we found out about the San Junipero system. Course, he’s only on trial version until he passes over. Five hours a week.” He pauses. “Guessing you’re the same, terminal illness and all.”

They stay silent for a while, then Keith asks, “So what’s with the whole ‘marriage’ thing, anyway?”

Lance smiles again, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “You need a sign from a family member for euthanasia cases. Shiro’s family loves him too much to do it.”

“But a spouse can override them.”

“Bingo.” Lance laughs. “I was hoping to sweep away a beautiful girl off her feet and marry her in a beautiful beach, sunset and all, but no dice.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“ _Hey._ ”

“But Shiro wasn’t wrong,” Keith says, smiling half-heartedly at Lance. “You really are a good guy.”

Lance softens. “It’s the least I could do. Pastor’s coming tomorrow morning, and he’s passing tomorrow afternoon.”

“You could just say ‘dying’. Enough sugarcoating with the ‘passing over’ shit.”

“Well, it’s not technically dying, is it? Uploading his consciousness to a digital heaven.” Lance shrugs. “Think I’m gonna wear a bowtie and everything. If I’m gonna get married I gotta at least look good.”

Keith snorts. Ridiculous. He leans back into his seat, stirring his coffee when he’s suddenly struck with an idea. “Hey. You think you can hook Shiro and me up to the system now? Just for a moment?”

“Hell no. Security’s ridiculous around here. They monitor every move you make. Besides, it’s not like you’re never gonna see him again. Once he passes, he’s full time San Juniperan.”

“I know, I know. But it’s important. I only need five minutes, tops.” Lance still looks hesitant, so he says. “Three minutes, then. You can disconnect us as soon as three minutes hit. Please, Lance.”

Lance huffs a dramatic sigh, probably just to irritate him, then stands. “Alright, alright. But make it quick, seriously. I’m blaming you entirely if I get into trouble. Let’s go.”

* * *

Shiro blinks. He hears the sea again, feels the sand beneath his feet, and the scorching hot sun on his skin. It’s too soon for him to be back, and at day? What’s going on?

“Shiro!” a voice calls out, and when he turns he sees Keith pushing open the glass door and running towards him. Questions are still floating in his mind, but he smiles when Keith reaches him, grabbing hold of his hands.

“I’ve never been here during the day,” he says, still looking around the beach, seeing the rest of the town behind the beach house. Keith, however, is looking straight at him.

“Listen,” he says quickly, “I don’t have a lot of time. I talked to Lance.”

Oh. “Yeah?”

“I thought you were passing over next week. He said you’re doing it tomorrow.”

“Couldn’t wait anymore,” he confesses with a helpless shrug. “Wedding’s tomorrow, then I’m honeymooning here forever. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Keith reassures him, soft voice and all as he puts his thumb on Shiro’s lips. “I’m… about to say something crazy. Hear me out?” And before Shiro can react Keith drops down to one knee and grabs his left hand.

“Keith?”

“Marry me instead.”

He can’t speak. He stands there, breathless and bewildered, as Keith squeezes his hand.

“I mean, Lance is great and all. But I figured, y’know, maybe it’d be better if you got married to someone you’ve connected with. Of course,” Keith rushes to add, “I’ll understand if you don’t want to, I’m not forcing you, or-”

Shiro laughs and before he knows it he’s on his knees too, wrapping his arms around Keith and kissing every inch of his laughing face, and in fifteen long years he has never been this happy.

“Is that a yes?” Keith asks, a brilliant grin on his face, and his eyes flutter closed when Shiro drops a kiss on the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah. Yes. God, of course.” He takes Keith’s face in his hands, and he thinks he’s never seen Keith this happy, either. “Let’s get married.”

* * *

A few minutes before the wedding he can somehow hear Keith and Lance arguing about whether or not Keith should wear a bowtie, and he wants to laugh but can’t. That’s okay, though. He’ll be able to laugh all he wants soon.

The ceremony begins, and he can hear the pastor saying, “lawfully wedded husband,” and Keith saying, “I do,” and he can’t say it himself, but he thinks it with all his heart, and hopes Keith can hear it.

“I’ll see you soon,” Keith whispers to him when the ceremony is over, and he kisses Shiro’s temple again just as another voice says, “Suspend all systems.”

Keith’s lips are the last thing he feels before the bright light, then finally, peace.

* * *

When he opens his eyes, he sees the sea again, feels the hot beat of the sun, and he’s already seen this all, but it feels like the first time all over again because now it’s _his._ This gorgeous place is his home now, for eternity.

He stays there until the sun starts to set, walking around and just feeling everything, when he hears a motorcycle rev behind him. When he turns around, Keith is there, wearing a white wedding suit as he hops off the motorcycle and waves at him, and Shiro thinks he’s the most gorgeous man to exist. “Shiro!”

He laughs out Keith’s name and runs to him, stopping a few feet away to admire him.

“Good to have you back,” Shiro says, grinning from ear to ear.

“Good to be back,” Keith replies, then laughs. “Can’t believe you didn’t dress up to see me.”

“You’re not wearing the bowtie Lance mentioned. We’re even.” Still, Shiro closes his eyes and when he opens them, he’s changed into a matching white suit, ring and everything. He grins at Keith. “That better?”

“Much,” Keith replies, then laughs when Shiro pulls him into a hug, lifting him off his feet and spinning them both around. He pulls Keith into a kiss once he puts him down, and he can feel the smile Keith wears when he returns it.

“Honeymoon starts now,” Keith says when he pulls away, putting Shiro’s helmet on him before he takes care of his own, and they both get on the motorcycle (Keith had put a tiny ‘just married’ sign and a single car can at the back, and it’s so endearing he wants to kiss him all over again) and ride off, laughing all the while.

Four hours and fifty minutes later, they’re back on the hilltop again, lying on that same quilt. Shiro can’t help standing up and just feel the wind blowing through his hair, barefoot so he can feel the grass tickling the soles of his feet.

“I love it here,” he announces. “Everything is so real, Keith. This is all real. I can’t believe it.”

“You’ve been here before, you know,” Keith says, laughter in his voice. He’s sitting up, arms wrapped around his knees, watching Shiro fondly.

“But now I _live_ here,” Shiro says, then drops to his knees in front of Keith and takes his hands. “Be with me.”

“I am with you,” Keith laughs. He slips his hands away from Shiro’s grip in favor of holding his face, brushing his bangs away.

“That’s not what I mean,” he says. His eyes drop with drowsiness when Keith keeps running his hands through his hair, and it reminds him that midnight is approaching. He needs to be quick. “Pass over.”

Keith stops moving.

“When it’s your time,” Shiro adds. He places his hands on Keith’s thighs when he moves to cross his legs. “Stay here with me, please.”

“Shiro…”

“It’s almost midnight,” Shiro continues. “And I – I can’t wait another week to get to see you again.”

“You know I’m just a visitor,” Keith tries, dropping his hands to Shiro’s shoulders.

“Not for long,” Shiro says. “And then you’ll – you’ll be gone. I’ll never see you again. Why have that when you can have forever?”

“Forever,” Keith repeats, and the sadness in his voice that he didn’t hear this whole night is back. “What can I do with that much?”

“It doesn’t have to be forever, then,” Shiro reasons. “You can delete yourself any time you want, Keith. But I don’t want our time together to be limited to a couple visits a month until you’re gone.”

“I’m leaving,” Keith says abruptly, and he pushes Shiro’s hands away before standing up. “I’ll see you next week.”

“Hey, wait-” Shiro stands up as well, catching Keith by his waist before he can turn to leave. Keith looks down, refusing to look at Shiro in the eye. “Hey, I’m sorry. But I just… I got this chance. To live again, to make up for time I’ve lost. I want to share that with you.”

“I’ve made my choice, Shiro,” Keith says stiffly, but the way he removes Shiro’s hands from him is still so, so gentle.

“What is it, then?” Shiro asks, pleads as he follows Keith down the hill until they reach his motorcycle. “Is it because of your wife? Because she didn’t pass over?”

“Shiro.” Keith’s voice is dangerously quiet. “Don’t.”

“You don’t have to beat yourself up over this,” Shiro says, reaching for Keith’s hand. “She made her choice, Keith. You can make yours.”

“And what do you know about her?” Keith demands, yanking his hand away. Shiro feels a wave of guilt coming at him when he sees Keith’s eyes brimming with angry tears. “I was with her for years. I’ve known her even longer than that, so much longer. I thought I’d have ‘forever’ with her but some fucking virus decided we couldn’t have that. She left me five years ago, Shiro. You can do the math.”

It clicks, suddenly. The San Junipero system was only created three years ago. “Keith-”

“I wish I believed that she’s in some heaven right now,” Keith continues, as if Shiro had never spoken. “But I don’t. I believe she’s nowhere. Gone forever, just like you said. And, fuck, how could I stay in this fucking graveyard when she couldn’t? How could I take this chance when she never got it?”

“I didn’t know-”

“You didn’t think to. And you try to give me a damn sales pitch, rambling on and on about how peachy forever could be?”

“I’m sorry,” Shiro tries, trying to stop his own tears from falling, in contrast to Keith who was crying freely at this point, but seemed to angry to notice or care.

“If you really want to spend forever in a place where nothing matters, go fucking ahead.” Keith hisses, voice ice cold. “But I’m out.”

And just as he gets on the motorcycle and turns the engine on, midnight strikes. Shiro is alone.

* * *

He waits. Keith doesn’t show up the next week, or the week after, then for an entire month. Still, he waits.

It kills him while he’s away.

* * *

Suspend all systems.

Systems suspended.

* * *

There’s a knock on his door, which confuses Shiro. While he has made his friends in the past month, none of them know of his address. A first timer asking for help, maybe?

When he opens the door, Keith is there.

“Keith.” He says his name almost reverently, and before he knows it he’s pulling him into a hug and babbling an apology. “I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t know what you went through, I didn’t even think. I shouldn’t have tried to force you to stay. I’ll miss you, so much, but you don’t have to stay. I get that now. I’m sorry.”

Keith huffs out a laugh, and it’s the most comforting thing he’s ever heard. “I’m sorry too.”

“No, you don’t have to apologize-”

“I know I didn’t log in for a while,” Keith cuts in with his explanation. “I’ve just. Been really sick.”

Shiro’s breath catches. “Is this your last visit?”

Keith smiles. “No.” He takes Shiro’s hand, presses it against his own cheek. “I passed over.”

Time stops and goes faster at the same time. Shiro smiles. “Really?”

“All things considered, I think I’m finally ready,” Keith says. “Maybe we can catch up on that honeymoon.”

Shiro laughs, all but tackling Keith into a hug and lifting him up, heart fluttering when Keith laughs with him and gripping his shoulders tightly to steady himself.

“No need to rush,” Shiro says when he puts Keith down, taking his left hand and kissing the golden band on his ring finger.

After all, they have forever now.

**Author's Note:**

> validate me on my vld blog @galraknives :3c


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